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    All Others: Vampire Assassin League, #27
    All Others: Vampire Assassin League, #27
    All Others: Vampire Assassin League, #27
    Ebook109 pages1 hour

    All Others: Vampire Assassin League, #27

    By Jackie Ivie

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    QUEEN OF THE DARK

    Tessa Queen is supermodel stunning. Tall. Slender. Sexy. Confident. Undead. She has a trademark. Her assignments are clean. Untraceable. Accidental. It’s her signature. And her style. Until one evening, when she has to sidetrack to a safe house…and finds everything unsafe and dangerous.

    A GHOST HUNTER

    Cameron Preston’s mature. In excellent health. Self-motivated. He competes in endurance contests for the same reason he’s a parapsychologist. He likes a challenge. But he firmly believes in ghosts. He’s had experiences. He wants to find out more. He doesn’t really like the living. He avoids them.

    BAYOU NIGHTS

    Despite his misgivings, Cam accepts an emergency job. The pay is good. The site is encouraging. A deserted, decaying mansion in New Orleans with a murder in its history. Sounded good…until he meets the rest of the Beethan Paranormal Research Group. He doesn’t know what these guys are hunting, but it isn’t ghosts…  

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJackie Ivie
    Release dateSep 9, 2015
    ISBN9781939820631
    All Others: Vampire Assassin League, #27

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    • 4/5
      I liked Cam a lot. He was funny. I didn't really like Tessa though. She didn't really have an personality to speak of. She need more depth. And it would have been nice to have had how and why she died made clearer. As well as why Akron chose to change her. I wish the stories were longer.

    Book preview

    All Others - Jackie Ivie

    CHAPTER ONE

    She was rather fond of family get-togethers. Especially weddings. Birthdays. Funerals could be entertaining, too, after the interment. During a gathering, she could wear one of her designer gowns – of which she had many – mingle with potential fluid donors – most of them inebriated, and the best part: it was so easy to arrange an accident. Not this time, however. She had specific orders. There was one target. One. All others were off limits. Akron didn’t want any collateral damage.

    What a pity.

    There should always be room for collateral damage.

    Tessa looked about the crowd. The target should be fairly simple to spot. This was a wedding. Rain was threatening, but that didn’t bother anyone. They’d set up on a large pavilion. It had a huge awning. The colors were turquoise and silver, amid a liberal amount of white. Tables were adorned with white tablecloths, tri-colored bouquets, crystal wine goblets, real silverware. Turquoise, silver, and white streamers filled the space, wafting about with any stir from the elements. It was obvious. No expense had been spared.

    Groomsmen – of which there were many – appeared to all be handsome men. Young. Fit. They were decked out in gray tuxedos, which upped the handsome quotient considerably. The bridesmaids were noticeable, as well. Most were curvy. Dark-haired. Attired in sequined silver heels and turquoise micro-mini dresses, with an overlay of gauze to make their dresses look a little less scandalous.

    Oh.

    Wait.

    She spotted the target. A disgruntled-looking matron. Since both matrons wore silver gowns with a touch of turquoise, and looked to be the same age, the target could come from either camp; bride or groom. Tessa knew the hit was the groom’s mother, however. The woman was a widow of a decade or more. She didn’t appear to have a pleasant disposition. Tessa knew from the file that the woman was extremely unhappy about the nuptials. Her body language made it obvious to the casual observer. Her entire form displayed disapproval, from the frown she wore to the stiff way she held her back straight on the little chair. The woman didn’t believe a common barmaid was a proper life companion for her only son, a world-class neurosurgeon. She hadn’t kept her opinion of the bride to herself. She’d gotten more acerbic as the day neared. And her son had told his fiancée about it. Which was all extremely stupid, but attributed mainly to lack of knowledge. They didn’t know that the bride was a member of the Stephano family. From the Old World.

    The groom’s mother should have done a more thorough background check. She’d have known who she was dealing with. Her son would have also known his chances of getting out of this union at a later date were about the same as his mother faced: None. The Stephanos had a lot of money and a lot of responsibility. A seemingly endless amount of political clout. They didn’t like criticism. They had contacts. They knew who to call to silence anyone.

    Permanently.

    Tessa sighed. She now had the target in sight. Time to plan. But she had to remember Akron’s words. All others were off limits. All others...

    Darn. It would be so effortless to have an electrical incident. There were cords snaking along the floor, taped into place beneath rubber linings. Wouldn’t take much to push one of those buffers aside with a heel, snag a cord, rip it open, and touch the nearest warm bodies with the live end, and watch as they ignited everything else. It would start all kinds of fireworks. Just about everything in the room was flammable...especially the turquoise, silver, and white streamers wafting about.

    Hi, gorgeous. I don’t know where you’ve been all my life, but I’m so glad you decided to show up.

    Tessa turned her head. Flicked her glance along the man who’d spoken. It was a groomsman. Definitely not sober. His tie was askew, his vest open. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, showing a tanned throat. And he had really interesting vascular structure. He held an empty wine goblet out to her with one hand. The other hand was gripped about the bottleneck. He lifted both.

    Would you care to join me in a toast?

    He was about average height. Tessa was five foot seven. She wore heels with her gown tonight. With that additional height, he was about an inch shorter. He looked well built. Wide shoulders. Flat belly. Slight scruff of whiskers. And he was blond. She really liked blondes. He grinned. He had a really white smile. Well. She had lots of time. Mommy Dearest didn’t look like she was going anywhere for a while. And Tessa hadn’t fed yet.

    Or maybe a dance? he offered next.

    She moved a step toward him, slid her hand along his forearm, relieving him of the wine bottle. The other hand snagged the glass. She put both on the nearest table and then stepped closer, making it an almost-embrace.

    Oh. I’d love to dance, she replied and nuzzled his neck.

    CHAPTER TWO

    These guys were a bunch of freaking amateurs.

    He should have followed his gut. And why hadn’t he? Because their offer was too good to be true. Their website was up-to-date. Their information was extraordinary. They’d arranged for a full investigation into a mansion in New Orleans, but their tech person had been hospitalized from a car accident, losing most of the equipment at the same time. They’d needed an instant replacement. They’d conducted online searches. Called numerous paranormal research facilities. His name kept popping up. They’d offered a week-long, paid – with the emphasis on paid - excursion to New Orleans.

    Well.

    What could be better?

    Doctor Cameron Preston had received his doctorate in Parapsychology from Rosebridge. His field may be considered radical, but he wasn’t a fringe scientist. He was an accredited member of the Parapsychology Association, and as such, the American Association for the Advancement of Science. He’d been awarded a major grant to study paranormal phenomenon. He only dealt with professionals. There was enough scamming in the paranormal field. He didn’t go halfway across the country for fakery. It was hard enough to gain respect among colleagues. The last thing the field needed was a bunch of folks with a lot of gung-ho, little training, and no oversight.

    Cameron checked his electromagnetic field detector for picking up any EMF. Next scan was of his portable audio recorder, for catching any EVP, or Electronic Voice Phenomenon. He had a walkie-talkie attached to his belt, night scope goggles and camera around his neck, while the main instrument rested in his shirt pocket. A basic ambient temperature gauge. It was still reading 72.4 Fahrenheit.

    Nothing had changed. But it was just past one in the morning. According to most paranormal researchers, three a.m. was the optimum time for activity. He had time. And if he needed it, he had more equipment. It was in his van outside. He hadn’t brought it in because he didn’t know how much or what range of devices the Beethan Paranormal Research Group were used to. According to the site and their references, they incorporated top of the line scanners and recorders into

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